


grown up

by FruitSnackHoe



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, i'll add more later, idk we'll see, smut maybe??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:44:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruitSnackHoe/pseuds/FruitSnackHoe
Summary: Josh is grown up. Tyler thinks he is.
Josh is smart. Tyler wants to be.
Josh is pretty. Tyler likes that.
Josh likes guys. Tyler doesn't.
But he could make an exception.





	1. It Ends Before It Begins

The sky always looked prettier at night. Everything did. Especially Josh.

He always told me to look up at the sky every once in awhile; something about gaining perspective and what not. I never did anyway. I’d much rather look up at him. I must say, he was a lot prettier than the sky in my eyes. With his soft pink curls, and his nose ring that would shine in the sunlight, how could anyone mistake him for less than perfect.

In retrospect, Josh was prettier than a lot of things; the smoke that swam through his lungs, the yelling that filled every inch of his apartment, the bruises that occasionally scattered his pale skin, and even his tombstone.

Especially his tombstone.


	2. Fuck you very, very much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry Dallon ://

The sharp autumn air filters through my lungs as I walk home from Brendon’s house, focusing on the soft sounds coming out of my earbuds. Today had been fun, although it was quite routine. Brendon and I had spent our Saturday playing Mario Kart and eating hot cheetos, occasionally talking about whatever was on our minds. Brendon was my best friend, and no matter how simple and repetitive they could get, I wouldn’t trade our Saturdays for anything.

The walk back from Brendon’s is incredibly boring, and unnecessarily long. To pass the time, I go over some of the conversations we had today. I don’t know if this is something only I do, or one of those things that most people do, but nobody talks about. It’s most likely the former, but no matter how weird it might seem, I do it anyway.

“Hey, Ty?”

“What?” I answer distractedly, most of my focus on the Mario Kart game we were currently playing.

“Dallon invited me to a party and I w-”

“No,” I say shortly.

“Why not,” he whines.

“I’m not going to some random frat party just ‘cause your boyfriend invited you and you’re too scared to go alone. Sorry if I’m coming across as an asshole, but I’m not interested.” Brendon pouts, and the room becomes silent for a long while.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Brendon mumbles.

“What?” I ask, confused,

“Dallon. He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh whatever. You’re practically dating,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“We are not!” he says indignantly with a large smile on his face.

I start laughing, “You totally are!” 

“Whatever. You don’t need to be a dick about it,” he says while holding back laughter.

“Oh c’mon, we all know you love dick, don’t deny it,” I say with a grin.

A hot cheeto is thrown at my face, and I look over to a smiling Brendon.

“Fuck off.”

 

//////////

 

When I get to my house, I take off my shoes and check the garage for my family’s cars. I don’t see anyone’s, which is quite typical. With my mother being on work trips more often than not, and my father constantly working overtime, this was hardly a surprise. Even my siblings - Zack and Madison - were rarely home. Madison was always doing something volleyball related, and Zack was most likely partying or sleeping with some random girl. It kind of sucked to be alone so often, but I’ve learned to confide more in myself and my friends than my family, and I’ve gotten by alright so far, so it isn’t all bad.

With the house all to myself, and no one there to judge me for it, I turn on my 90’s playlist and start singing to The Spice Girls while I make myself dinner. Tonight - like most nights - dinner consists of a grilled cheese sandwich, which is pretty much all I can make without burning the house down. Even though I spend a lot of nights alone, I still haven’t quite managed to successfully make any food that doesn’t come straight out of a box. At least I’m honest about it.

I search the cabinets for a pan, plate, and search the fridge for the ingredients needed. Once I have everything I need, I heat up the pan and start buttering up the bread slices, using probably too much butter. I then place the cheese in between and try to put the sandwich on the hot pan without it falling apart or burning myself. I manage to do so, and start flipping the sandwich. After a few minutes and a really good Destiny’s Child song, my dinner is ready. I bite into it, and it’s terrible. I’ve somehow managed to burn the shit out of the bread, but keep the cheese mostly unmelted. I don’t know how that happened, and they’re not usually this bad, but I’m hungry, so I suffer through it.

Once I get through my horrible meal, I go upstairs to my bedroom, nearly tripping on the top step. I brush myself off and walk into my room, going straight over to the four poster bed and crawling under the warm, gray covers. I’m thoroughly exhausted, despite having done very little today. Nonetheless, my eyelids close and I fall asleep easily to the sound of rain gently pattering against the house.

 

//////////////

 

Crying. Lots of it. I don’t know where it’s coming from, or why it’s happening. I feel someone grab my hand and squeeze it. It feels like my mother’s. I want to squeeze back, so badly, but I can’t. I’m incapable. I can’t move anything, I can’t even open my eyes. It feels like something is breathing for me. It’s like I’m underwater, and everyone is above water, trying to save me, but I can’t quite reach them. I’m trapped in my mind. I am utterly terrified.

I wake up abruptly in a cold sweat. My heart and my mind are racing as I try to calm down from my dream. I take a minute to breathe before I slowly climb out of bed, standing on shaky legs. After I turn on the hallway lights, I walk down to the kitchen, the only sound being the soft thud my feet make while walking down the stairs and on the hardwood floors.

When I enter the kitchen, I turn on the lights and get a glass from the dark oak cabinets. I go to the fridge and fill it up with water, and down it, relieving my dry throat . I fill up the glass again and start sipping at it while I check my phone, which I left down here when I went up to bed. I see that I have seven missed calls from Brendon, all within the past ten minutes. Panic starts filling up my chest, making it hard to breathe. My hands start shaking as I grab the phone and dial him back, all the while thinking of all the situations in which everything could’ve gone horribly wrong. After an excruciatingly long time, he answers, but it is not Brendon’s voice I hear.

“Finally, you picked up. I thought I might’ve had to call 911,” an unfamiliar voice says.

More anxiety piled on in my chest. Why would this stranger have to call 911? What happened? Is Brendon okay?  “W-what? What’s going on? Who are you? Why do you have Brendon’s phone?”

“Okay buddy, calm down. It’s not that serious,” the stranger said, their voice dripping with condescension. I was incensed.

“What the fuck! You literally said that you were gonna call 911! What the fuck happened to Brendon?”

“Dude, it was a joke. Jeesh. Take a chill pill.”

“Well I didn’t find your joke to be very funny. Now why the fuck am I dealing with an asshole like you at three in the morning?” I ask, anger evident in my voice.

“Okay so, can I tell this story without you screaming at me?” I don’t say anything. If I did, I would definitely start yelling again.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes then. So we’re all at a party right now, and I’m gonna be honest, I’m fucking hammered, but I see Dallon across the room, and I go to say hi, but when I get over to him, I see that he’s freaking the fuck out. I wasn’t sure if he was just on a bad trip or something, but he was sweating so much it was honestly the grossest thing ever. Me, being the great friend that I am, decided to help him out.” I snort at this. Even from my three minute interaction with this guy, I gauge that random acts of kindness are a rarity.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Laugh, I don’t care. Anyways, I ask him what’s going on, and he’s like ‘dude I really fucked shit up, Tyler’s gonna kill me.’ so-”

“Can we speed this up? I don’t really care about what Dallon said, I just want to know what happened to my best friend and if he’s okay,” I cut him off.

“Fine, don’t be a prick about it. But Dallon said that he gave this Brendon guy some weed, but it was laced with something I guess, and then Brendon started throwing up and shit. So he told me to call you and ask you if you can come pick him up and take care of him.”

“Did you guys not take him to a hospital?,” I shout through the phone. “He could’ve fucking died!”

“Well we didn’t really want to go to jail for giving laced weed to a minor so…” he trailed off.

“Oh my fucking god. Fine, I’ll come get him. Text me the address.”

 

////////////////

 

I pull up to the party in my grandma’s old car. I don’t like to use it, considering she died in here, which is why I walk to most places, but I bring it out for emergency purposes. 

As soon as I come to a stop, I jump out and slam the door shut. I march up to the front door and walk in, being greeted immediately by an either sleeping or unconscious Brendon, a nervous-looking Dallon, and who I presume to be the guy I talked on the phone with earlier. 

I walk up to Dallon, swing back my arm, and punch him in the jaw as hard as I can. He reels back, probably not from the punch itself, but from the shock that I, Brendon’s slightly shy friend just right-hooked him. Even though I gained a satisfaction from hitting Dallon, I still regretted my decision, because my hand immediately started to throb, but I tried not to show my pain. 

    “Well, I guess you’re Tyler,” the man from the phone says after a brief period of stunned silence. “I’m Josh, by the way. Nice right-hook there, although, your form was a little off.”

    “Shut up and help me get Brendon into my car,” I say, too tired and too worried to put up with any more shit. Josh picks up Brendon bridal style, and waits for me to show him to my car.

    So with a final “fuck you,” to Dallon, Josh and I walk slowly to my car. I glance behind my shoulder, and I’m struck by how pretty he looks. His shirt shows off his muscled arms, his pink hair is tousled in a surprisingly sexy way, and his skin is bathed in moonlight, giving him the slight appearance of glowing. He looks nothing like stereotypical frat boy that I imagined when I spoke to him over the phone.

    We reach my car, and I find myself saying, “I’m not actually like this, in case you were wondering,” like I had the sudden need to justify my attitude to him.

    “Like what?” he asks, still holding Brendon.

    “All uptight and annoying,” I say, playing with the hem of my shirt anxiously.

    “It’s alright. You were just worried about your friend. I get it.” He shifts a bit, trying to keep from dropping Brendon. I notice, so I open the passenger door, and he sits him inside. I then put the seat belt over him and close the door.

    I walk over to the driver’s side while saying, “Yeah but I was still an asshole to you, and I’m sorry about that.” 

    “No need to apologize. We’re good.” I look up and see Josh smiling at me from across the top of the car, and it’s wonderful. His teeth are pearly white and really straight, and the way the corners of his eyes crinkle warms my heart. I find myself smiling dumbly at him.

    “And don’t worry, I think you’re cute too.” That snaps me out of my smile-induced stupor. I reel back in surprise, suddenly realizing that my thoughts were pretty gay, not that there’s anything wrong with that of course, but still, how many straight guys are mesmerized by another dude’s smile?

    “I-I’m not, I’m not gay or anything. I mean it’s cool if you are, like it’s not a bad thing or whatever. I’m just not… not, uh, gay.” I awkwardly cough.

    “Sure you aren’t.” And with a wink which nearly brings me to my knees, he leaves, walking back into the house.  
I sigh and then climb into my seat. I put the keys into the ignition, but before I hit the gas, I look over at Brendon, who’s fast asleep and snoring gently. A sense of tiredness and calmness washes over me.

    “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two updates in a day wow this is crazy. so I'm gonna try to update this once a week (emphasis on try) and it's probably gonna be either on Fridays or Saturdays. have a nice day/night :)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by A World Alone by Lorde. It's a great song, you should listen to it.  
> And btw the rest of the chapters are going to be a lot longer than this one. Have a nice day :)


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